


All Good Things (Don't Always Have To End)

by MoMoMomma



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Chris, Bottom Sheriff, Breeding Kink, Creeper Peter Hale, Dirty Talk, Fluffy Ending, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Omega Sheriff, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Top Chris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2154846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John’s heat hits unexpectedly and like a punch to the jaw. It almost stuns him in place before his brain catches up and catapults into overdrive. He knew--he fucking knew--his suppressants were failing. He knew it, he could tell. But between ensuring Stiles kept up on his medications and dealing with the insanity of their town, he’d ignored it. </p><p>Couldn’t really ignore it now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Things (Don't Always Have To End)

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to try out bottom!Sheriff and I figured I'd do it an easier way and try it in the ABO 'verse first. Because it is ABO and heat cycles, there's inherent consent issues so if that's something that squicks, please feel free to skip over this one. 
> 
> Beta-ed by Richelle, as always, but I've tweaked a couple things so any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.

John’s heat hits unexpectedly and like a punch to the jaw. It almost stuns him in place before his brain catches up and catapults into overdrive. He knew--he fucking _knew_ \--his suppressants were failing. He knew it, he could tell. But between ensuring Stiles kept up on his medications and dealing with the insanity of their town, he’d ignored it.

Couldn’t really ignore it now.

Not when he was going into full blown heat in the middle of a coffee shop with _Chris Argent_ sitting across from him. John can almost visibly _see_ the second it clicks with Chris, when he figures out what the hell the smell is--and who it’s coming from--over the scent of coffee and pastries. The hunter’s knuckles go white as he clenches his hands on the table and his jaw visibly flexes with the grinding of his teeth. He looks just as panicked as John feels and John, for a moment, before the heat wipes out his concerns, feels momentarily bad for forcing it on the man.

But the feeling soon dissipates as a nearby Alpha tilts his head up, obviously scenting the air and staring over at them. John is up from the table before he can tell his muscles to move, body running on instinct. He gets four steps before Chris catches his arm and the sensitivity of his skin makes John moan through gritted teeth, freezing in place.

“My car. Now.” Chris snaps out, before letting him go and digging into his pocket--presumably for his wallet.

John doesn’t even think to disagree, having enough sense to pull his phone from his pocket and shoot a quick text to Parrish to let him know what’s happening--that consists of “in heat. car at coffee shop. plz get it.”--before throwing himself into Chris’ SUV. He can feel himself starting to leak slick, the sweet smell of his heat permeating the car, to the point where Argent scowls as he rips the door open, climbing in behind the wheel.

“Sorry.” John manages to choke out, Chris waving it away, turning the car on with violent movements, entire body tense as he pulls out.

“Where do I take you? Who do you need?”

What the hell is John supposed to say to that? He doesn’t have an Alpha, he never did. They never sat well with him, in the relationships sense at least, and Claudia had been the last person to help him through a heat. So what does he tell Chris?

“Y-You.” The word slips out and instantly John feels himself go cold despite the warmth pumping through his veins. That wasn’t--it wasn’t supposed to--sure he’d been harboring a crush but admiring someone and subtly flirting is a hell of a lot different than asking someone to help you through a heat.

To his shock, Chris merely swears and pulls out his own phone, taking a side street John knows for a fact does not lead back to his own house. Probably for the best, considering Stiles and Scott were supposed to have a sleepover tonight. Another surge of arousal has him losing his train of thought, head slamming back against the headrest as he presses a palm down against his cock, panting for breath. That whole “breathe through your heat flows” is bullshit. All it does is cause John to breathe in his own scent, the pheromones he’s emitting getting forced back into his own body, shoving his arousal higher.

When he comes back to sanity, shaking his head to try and clear the fog that’s slowly drifting in, John becomes aware Chris is talking on his phone.

“--it’s not a hunting thing, Allison. It’s personal. I promise. I--yes, please. I don’t know for how long, tell Lydia’s mother I’ll make it up to her. Yeah, I--thank you. Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be home in about ten. No, no, I’d like if you were gone by then. Alright. Alright. Love you, honey, text me and let me know you’re there. Yes, I’ll tell you when it’s over. Goodbye.”

Throwing the phone into the cup holder between them, Chris glances at him quickly, eyes darting from John’s face to where his palm is still pressing against his cock, before he refocuses on the road.

“I don’t have condoms. Are you--”

“On the shot.” John manages, feeling like he’s searching through a haystack for the needles of words, mind muddling the more his body slips into heat.

Chris nods and that’s it, they don’t speak again until they’re pulling up in front of his apartment complex. Somehow they get inside, thank god Allison’s gone, and then Chris is pinning him up against the wall by the door, hands like vices on his biceps.

“Tell me again. I need to know this is you and not the heat. I need--tell me.”

The desperation in Chris’ eyes has nothing to do with the pheromones thickening the air between them and John thinks, for one terrifying moment, that Chris must have known an Omega who didn’t get the choice. The hunter must have met one whose heat hit so fast and so hard they got no choice in who helped them through it. But he’s still _him_ and John is determined, like he always has been, to never be taken advantage of because of his designation.

“You.” John reaches out and grasps the back of Chris’ neck. “I want you, Chris.”

The use of his name must be proof enough because John has barely finished getting the syllables out before Chris is pressing their lips desperately together, hands yanking on his clothes. John isn’t sure how they get to the bedroom, whether it’s Chris guiding them or John pushing him backwards and vaguely remembering the location, but before he knows it they’re toppling onto a duvet so soft it doesn’t even irritate his sensitive skin.

John’s generally a very generous lover, preferring to make sure his partner is satisfied before taking his own pleasure, but heat is a whole different battlefield. So when Chris yanks his pants and briefs off his legs, tossing them carelessly to the side--breaking something that John stupidly hopes isn’t expensive--it doesn’t even occur to him to protest.

“Just one.” He pants out, cupping the back of Chris’ head as the hunter bends to lap at the tip of his swollen cock. “So I can--so I can think.”

Chris doesn’t answer verbally but he swallows down half of John’s cock in one smooth movement, fist wrapped around the base, his other hand hiking John’s leg over one shoulder so he can open him up. The first brush of Chris’ fingers against his slick hole has John biting off curses and arching into the wet heat of his mouth, eyes slamming closed as he spills down Chris’ throat. When he comes back to himself, Chris is still kneeling between his legs, obviously having used the time John was out to strip out of his clothing.

John still has his own shirt on and he plucks at it with numb, shaky fingers before Chris shushes him and reaches down to pull it off him, undoing the buttons with competent fingers. The slight sheen on a few of Chris’ digits has John moaning, surging up to pull him into another kiss. He’s completely in the swing of his heat now, not thinking about how he has to see this man at pack meetings, about how their kids go to school together. All he knows is that Chris has a cock and John wants it inside him.

 _Now_.

“G-Get inside me.” John breathes out, Chris pinning him to the bed and rubbing one hand up John’s thigh as he wraps it around the man’s hip. “Chris, _fuck_ me.”

It’s abrupt and startling and _wonderful_  when Chris snarls out a filthy curse and hikes his leg up a bit higher before shoving in. The slick of John’s body completely eases the way and he gets the barest hint of pressure and thickness before Chris’ hips are meeting his ass and John is moaning. It’s--Beta cocks are the _best_. There’s no worry of how big the knot will be, no concern for soreness the next day. Just a smooth slide that lets them press all the way inside on the first thrust.

Chris seems almost apprehensive, shifting above him but not really thrusting until John wraps his other leg around him--now _that_ will lead to soreness tomorrow. Fucking old age.--and reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of his neck again.

“Chris, goddamnit, I said _fuck me_.”

“You’re sure?” The Beta can’t even get the words out before John is clenching down on him, using muscles he hasn’t used in ages--no point in trying to exert any extra pressure on a toy--ripping a gasp from his chest.

Chris’ moan is something that rattles into John’s chest, the sound low and _wrecked_ , as he finally obeys. His thrusts are as powerful as John imagined they would be, his toned body driving him forwards again and again. It’s nearly too much and for a second John thinks about telling him to stop, slow down, something, but before he can, his next orgasm hits him like a freight train. He digs his fingernails into Chris’ shoulder, into the back of his neck, as he comes, slicking both their stomachs as Chris ruts into him. It comes as a shock when Chris comes as well, none of the macho shithead groaning and moaning of Alphas in porn present. Just a soft whine of John’s name and the way his head falls forward on his shoulders, hanging loose.

Two orgasms clear John’s head just a bit and he’s able to let Chris out of his sight, let the Beta walk out of the room on shaky legs to gather supplies. It isn’t until John’s wolfed down a granola bar and drank half a bottle of gatorade--nearly choking when his heat swells mid-swallow--that he remembers why Beta/Omega pairs have to make certain arrangements for a heat. Chris’ cock is limp despite John’s hand and mouth wrapping around it desperately and John damn near feels the need to cry before Chris brushes a hand through his hair and guides him to his hands and knees.

Chris gets three fingers in before John is ready to give up and tell him to knock it off. Fingering doesn’t work, no one has fingers thick enough to satisfy an Omega in heat. But as John opens his mouth to tell him not to bother, Chris adds another finger and spreads them. The pressure isn’t enough, not in a million years, but it is enough to hint to John what he’s doing. The next time John comes it’s clenching down around Chris’ fist, muttering mindless things at the stretch.

“So fucking big. Fuck, yeah. So good. Want you to stretch me open, f-fuck me good.”

He doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed when he flops down in his own wet spot, body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm. So there’s some truth after all to the rumors of a fist being a damn good substitute for a knot. But even as he thinks it, John knows it won’t be enough. It’s simple chemistry. Copious application of semen is what shortens a heat. John’s knew Alpha/Omega pairs who would take a day for the heat, fuck the entire goddamn 24 hours, and then be back at work the next day. Exhausted and a bit scatterbrained, but out of the heat and doing just fine from such a quick burn.

He can’t fault Chris for being a Beta….but he can’t help but think it would be easier--

“With an Alpha.” Chris finishes, John becoming aware he’d been muttering out loud, flushing at the accidental insult.

Chris shushes his disjointed apologies and brushes a kiss against his forehead, running gentle fingers through John’s short hair. He looks stricken and John wonders why until Chris opens his mouth.

“I--I might not be enough. Not for your body, not for a heat this strong. We...we might need an Alpha. Got any you trust?”

The list is laughably short but John still has some. Which is why he ends up with his face buried in Chris’ stomach a short hour later, the hunter cradling him as Derek drives into him with powerful movements. The kid had been obliging enough, not asking too many questions--just the same “protection?” Chris had asked--before stripping off and climbing onto the mattress. And as much as John hates to admit something so old-fashioned and barbaric, an Alpha makes a difference.

He can already feel Derek’s knot starting to swell, spreading him wider every time it presses up against his hole, and it makes him moan against Chris’ skin. Something in him is still fighting though, something buried deep rebelling at the idea of needing a knot to get by. John almost wishes he hadn’t had the handful of orgasms he had. If he were more desperate, it wouldn’t matter. His body would naturally open up for the knot, obeying its instinct.

Not clench down every single time Derek tries to press inside like its currently doing.

“Knot him.” A voice snaps from the side, Derek’s growl sending shivers down John’s spine before he replies.

“I’m _trying_. He won’t let me, he keeps tensing.”

Chris’ body stiffens under him as a heavy hand grasps John’s nape, applying just enough pressure to one side that John turns his head. Peter’s face is drawn tight, still aggravatingly attractive even as he bares his teeth and flashes his eyes at John.

“Relax, little Omega. Let him knot you.”

“ _ **Peter**_!” Derek’s snarl is half threat, half reprimand as he grinds his hips slowly, trying to work his knot in gently.

The older Alpha seems like he’s going to snap back for a moment before he shakes it off, eyes fading back to their human blue--still gorgeous enough to hold John’s interest--, leaning in just a bit closer. His voice, when he speaks, is no longer harsh but rather soft and soothing.

“Relax for him, John. Let him in. He’s going to feel so good, isn’t he? Going to be everything you need. Knot you and fill you up, give you exactly what you want. Such a good little Omega, you’ll look so beautiful hanging off his knot. And when he’s done? I’m going to knot you. Slide inside and fill you up again so you can come.”

The words, even though John knows the concern is faked, seem to work and his body relaxes just enough for Derek to slide into place, knot locking inside him and swelling the last bit. Derek curls over his back when it happens, hips pumping forwards as he spills inside him. Surprisingly enough, it’s not the come that makes John orgasm. It’s the feeling of Derek brushing gentle kisses along his shoulders, beard scraping lightly against the skin there.

John regains clarity once he comes down from his orgasm, the Alpha knot and come doing the trick. It’s awkward to let Chris feed him bites of food and carefully hold a bottle to his mouth so he can drink while he’s attached to someone’s dick, but Derek and Peter’s satisfied noises at every bite and swallow help to dispel it. It’s Omega instinct, not one John’s too keen on fighting if it makes him loosen up a bit, to be pleased at having made an Alpha happy.

And John’s got two of them practically purring in delight at his actions.

He’s not sure what he expects when Derek’s knot shrinks and he slips free. Maybe for Peter to clean him up, or for Derek himself to do it. But Peter doesn’t even pause once he’s behind John, driving in with a force that has the breath leaving his lungs. The werewolf is using all the supernatural strength Derek obviously didn’t, practically pounding John into the mattress. The only reason he isn’t face first in the duvet is because Chris, and now Derek, are holding him up. Derek snarls every time Peter thrusts particularly hard, keeping him in check, in control, but even Derek can’t shut the other Alpha's mouth.

John’s not really sure he wants him to anyhow.

“Such a sweet bitch. Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve had such a good Omega. You’ve been hiding this, Sheriff. Hiding how much of a slut you were, how tight and hot your little hole was. Was, of course, because it’s not now. No, it’s been fucked open like a common whore’s cunt. It’ll be tight again though, and I can’t wait. Maybe then you’ll come to me first instead of trying to let an insufficient _Beta_ take care of you.”

John comes with gritted teeth at the insults, body winning out over his brain, and Peter’s knot locks into place the second his body squeezes around it. Unlike Derek, however, Peter doesn’t seem interested in soft motions. He doesn’t try to curl around John, merely pulling his hips back gently until John is leaning back against him, Peter settled onto his calves.

Of course, that could be due to the fact that when Peter had trailed light fingers up his spine, Derek had snapped his teeth together so hard John had been afraid the kid was going to break teeth.

He’s dozing in and out briefly, body calming with the come pumped inside him, nuzzling into Chris’ stomach and idly licking at his stiffening cock, when he hears Derek speak up.

“When you un-knot, you get out.”

“You think you can handle it on your own?” Peter’s voice is smug and cocky, Derek’s returning tone sharp enough to cut through bulletproof glass.

“One time is enough. Chris and I can handle it from here. You don’t get to talk to him like that.”

“Protective.” Peter doesn’t seem particularly threatened but John loses the rest of the conversation as Peter’s knot starts to shrink inside him.

He actually falls asleep, amazingly enough, his heat settling with the two knots in such a short amount of time. John isn’t out long, he assumes, given that Chris hasn’t moved an inch, but long enough that Peter has left, Derek now the only other person in the room. The wolf is perched on the edge of the bed, looking unsure of his place until John beckons him closer with a lazy wave, pushing himself over onto his back with one jerky movement. Derek seemed apprehensive until John hooked a hand over his nape, tugging him down for a soft kiss.

He could literally _feel_ the tension seep out of the Alpha, Derek’s shoulders curling forwards as he tentatively pressed his tongue inside John’s mouth. Chris shifted under them, John patting around blindly until he could capture his hand, squeezing it tightly. He was normally alert right out of sleep but heat made him lazy and pliant, smiling softly at the blush high on Derek’s cheeks when he drew back.

“Thank you.” He murmured softly, Derek easing down next to him, skin warm and soft.

“For what?”

“Helping. And removing the not-so helpful party.”

Derek made a soft noise against John’s chest where he was trailing kisses, looking up to meet his gaze.

“Peter’s...he’s….if I had known he would--”

“S’alright.” John pushed a hand into Derek’s hair, guiding his head back down and rolling his hips as his heat swelled.

It wasn’t as bad this time, a rough sea as opposed to a tidal wave, but it still made him antsy. He could see the end, the two Alpha knots in addition to Chris’ actions breaking through the worst part. He wasn’t sure if the werewolf thing had any bearing on that, something to ask Deaton next time he saw him. But for now, John was just happy this hell would be over soon.

“Once more.” Chris murmured, running a hand down John’s side as he gasped and arched when Derek’s tongue stroked slowly over a nipple. “Once more and then it should break.”

“How do you want it?” Derek murmured against his skin, body spreading John’s thighs wide as he settled, the brush of his cock clouding John’s head.

John rolled his head back against Chris’ stomach, meeting cool blue eyes that held affection and amusement in equal parts, calming the fire that was spreading through his belly.

“How do--”

“I just want you to be sated.” Chris ran gentle fingers through his hair, slicking the sweat soaked strands back, mouth curling into a gentle smile. “However you need it.”

“Like this.” John muttered mindlessly, tugging at Derek’s powerful forearms until the wolf moved, tugging John’s legs around his hips.

His body ached in the best ways when Derek slid inside him, sensitive nerves making him toss his head back at the intrusion, Derek exhaling like he’s been struck.

“Alright?” Chris asked, reaching out to grip Derek’s shoulder tightly when his eyes flashed red, brows drawn low. “Derek?”

“Feels like he’s trying to lock.” He gritted out, hips grinding tightly, John moaning at the stretching. “He’s so tight, like he wants to be bred.”

“Wanna have your pups.” John whined, heat taking over his brain now that there’s a cock inside him once more, loosening his tongue in stupid, stupid ways. “Want you to breed me. Fill me up, Derek. C’mon.”

“ _Fuck_.” Derek breathed, eyes wide, jaw slack as he started to fuck him hard, quick jackrabbit thrusts that had John’s eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

It was only Chris’ warm hands on his jaw, grounding him, that kept John from screaming when Derek’s knot locked them together. It felt _bigger_ on his abused nerves, his body tightening around it viciously, strangling a moan from Derek’s chest. John could _feel_  the come soaking inside him, filling him up, and for a desperate, heat-stupid moment, he wished he wasn’t on the pill. Wished Derek really was fucking a pup into him. A pup for he and Derek and Chris to raise together.

That thought is what had him coming with a sigh, the idea of his body swelling, of Chris and Derek pampering him while their pup grew inside him. The last thing he saw before he passed out, drained from a heat that burned like a wildfire, was Derek and Chris looking at one another over him, faces drawn and tight.

God, he hoped he’d kept that whole internal monologue….internal.

.O.

 

The next morning--John assumed it was morning going by the soft light coming in through the window--John remembered why he’d thought no heats was a blessing. His whole body _hurt_ , like a fresh bruise, joints popping and cracking as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a groan. The room had been cleaned up, his clothes gone from the floor, and the lights dimmed. John flushed at the reminders of what had happened, of who had seen him the entire time he was weak and wrecked and needy. Chris, Derek, even _Peter_. How was he going to look any of them in the eye? How was he going to go to pack meetings and pretend like everything was okay when they all knew what he looked like when he writhed on a knot?

John was torn from his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening, Chris slipping in, looking just as exhausted as John felt. Regardless, he smiled softly at the sight of John and moved slowly over to stand in front of him.

“Feeling alright?”

“Feels like I got hit by a truck.” John admitted with a rueful grin, Chris chuckling before hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

“Wanna shower?”

“Not exactly sure I’ve got the strength for that.” John rose to his feet with a soft noise, feeling the impact of a full day of fucking when his muscles practically screaming in protest. “Yeah, oh my god, _really_ not sure I’ve got the strength for it.”

Chris slipped under his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist for support and, for the barest second, nosing against his temple.

“I think we’ve seen enough of each other than sharing a shower won’t be that awkward, right?”

John nodded, letting Chris lead him over to the attached bathroom, settling heavily against the sink while Chris ran the shower, stripping out of his own clothes. John flushed at the sight of scratch marks and bruises from where he’d grabbed onto Chris during the heat, the hunter’s body beautiful despite the markings--maybe even more beautiful because of them.

Getting under the spray of warm water was like another orgasm, John groaning low and long as he leaned his forehead against Chris’ shoulder, letting it pound down against his aching back. It made him sleepy and pliant, letting Chris easily maneuver him this way and that. John was ashamed at how very ‘romance novel Omega’ he was acting, getting pampered like he was, but he couldn’t stop it. It felt too good to give up and John would take this little bit of comfort before everything got awkward and changed forever.

“D’rek?” He slurred against Chris’ shoulder as the man ran soapy hands over his skin, smoothing away aches and pains as best he could in their position.

He knew the wolf was somewhere. Alphas rarely left Omegas until they were certain they were well taken care of, and Derek was an honorable Alpha--John was honestly surprised he wasn’t the one in the shower with him.

“Changing the sheets and finding you something to eat.” Chris murmured against the shell of his ear, kissing it gently as he turned John into the spray, washing the soap from his chest and stomach.

The turn made John rock back on his heels, his ass nudging against Chris’ cock which was most certainly _not_ exhausted, thick and hard against his lower back. It sent a wave of shock and warmth through John that had nothing to do with the shower. It might just be proximity and friction but...maybe--maybe Chris had something for him past a heat?

“Chris, wh--”

“Shhh,” Chris hummed, hands gentle on John’s hips. “Relax. It’s not a big deal. Just--”

“No, let me--” John turned clumsily, lax fingers wrapping around Chris’ cock, drawing a hiss from the other man. “Let me help, I--”

“Alright.” Chris said, stroking soft hands up John’s arms, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek. “Alright, just...easy. Just do what you can.”

What John could do was tighten and loosen his grip rhythmically as Chris thrust, pulling moans and gasps from him. It wasn’t much, but it still made John feel good, especially when Chris grasped his jaw and drug him in for long kisses, their tongues slipping against each other. Maybe...maybe it wasn’t just a heat...maybe Chris really did…

“So good, John.” Chris whispered, forehead pressed against John’s as his thrusts grew more erratic. “So good, so sweet. Perfect Omega. God, I want you so much. Wanna mate--wanna touch--”

He stopped talking with a low moan, hands spasming where they gripped John’s biceps, warmth spilling over John’s fingers that had nothing to do with the shower spray. John eased him back against the wall of the shower, leaning in for more soft kisses, until Chris’ breathing eased. The rest of the shower went by quickly, both of them eager to get out, and John let Chris wrap the towel around his hips, making his way out into the bedroom while Chris shaved.

Sure enough, Derek was finishing up pulling the covers neatly back over the bed, the smell of food drifting in through the open bedroom door. John paused when the Alpha whirled to face him, eyes running over his form, Derek’s face a blank mask.

“I’m not gonna like this conversation, am I?” John sighed, feeling Chris step out of the bathroom behind him.

“You always did have a way of getting straight to the point.” Chris sighed, John’s groan making both of them laugh.

.O.

“Feeling better, sir?”

John looked up at Parrish’s voice, waving the younger Omega in with a grin.

“Yeah, much. How were things while I was gone?” John listened to Parrish talk as he pulled out his phone, the screen still glowing from the notification bell that had gone off.

On the screen sat a text that made him grin wide enough for Parrish to trail off in the background, no doubt noticing the expression on his face.

 ******From: Derek:**

**Chris and I got lunch, be by in 10. Can’t wait to see you :)**

It was weird getting used to texting Derek, even more weird getting used to having two lovers. But John was settling in quite nicely. It still got strange at times, too many hands in the bed, but they all balanced each other. Sometimes they fought, Chris and Derek arguing over the danger John put himself in, John throwing it back at them when they acted reckless. But it worked...it worked really well.

And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> If you dug this and wanna come yell with me about silly teenage wolves, I'm momomomma2 over on tumblr as well!


End file.
